


Lessons

by cxw1065



Category: Geet: hui Sabse Parayi
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:23:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxw1065/pseuds/cxw1065
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this was a mix of someone’s prompt to write about maan teaching geets lessons; this was also an attempt on my part to explain why the obvious passion between Maaneet became less obvious after Manali and after the campsite night.  I’ve always had some issues with Geet not having any issues after what Dev did to her—this is my explanation.  Hope you like it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Please note- most of the dialogue in this is in Hindi/Urdu, though the story is in English

LESSONS

“Where was he, what was taking so long, how many more rasams were there before her husband could join her?”

Geet couldn’t help but compare her two weddings. Her first wedding day had arrived with very little fanfare, with very little time to prepare or to imagine what her life would be like after she had become Dev’s bride. Though at the time she had been filled with anticipation if not with love, she hadn’t had a chance to think, to breathe. Her family’s determination to have her off their hands had somehow infected her too; she had entered into all the ceremonies with happiness, the part of her that was screaming that it was all too soon, too fast, too precipitous ignored as she tried to mould herself to her family’s image of the perfect bhartiya naari.

Her second wedding was a different matter altogether, a day filled with joy, a day which she had been dreaming of and praying for, for what seemed like an eternity. This time round, so many things had already gone wrong, so many problems had been faced, so many nay-sayers already quieted. Could any bride have anticipated her wedding day more than she had? She didn’t think so.

In many ways, Maan and Geet had been behaving like a married couple already. They lived together, ate together, worked together, bickered and made up. Maan’s family, his employees, even Maan himself treated Geet as if she was his wife. They were even about to become parents, and Maan certainly shared in every parental responsibility as if truly this child was THEIR’S rather than just hers.

There was only one way in which there were not truly husband and wife, only one final commitment to be made, one final act of sharing that would forever bind them.

As Geet sat on the bed in Maan’s room, the heady fragrance of the curtains of flowers filling her nostrils, Geet couldn’t help but think back to her meeting with Maan on her first wedding night. How they had antagonised each other then, how they had hated the sight of each other. If only she had known then what she knew now—could she have avoided the heartache, the torment that had filled her journey to this moment.

“Oh God, she couldn’t breathe, how much longer would she have to wait? Were those voices outside the door?”  
She thought back to the rest of that night—the night Dev had taken her innocence, in more ways than one. He’d been kind and gentle- the one kindness he’d done her. She’d felt nothing but awkwardness and a little pain, the experience over so quickly that she had no time to think about it. She had been expecting nothing else, the idea that she could feel desire never entering her mind. Her mother had spoken to her briefly before her wedding—explaining everything and nothing.

Geet had accepted it as her duty; her mother had explained that men had needs, never suggesting that women might have some needs of their own. She’d lain there after Dev had finished- his sweaty body uncomfortably heavy; after a few moments, she had slid out from under him and just laid there quietly, not quite sure what to do next. When she’d gone out of the room and encountered Maan, she had been numbed by the rapidity of events- her reactions to him strangely affected by a feeling that she had betrayed something by allowing Dev access to her body. She had returned to the hotel room, sleep had eventually overcome her, and after that events had spiralled out of control. In the weeks that passed after that night, physical intimacy had taken on a nightmarish quality in her mind, the thought that she might someday welcome another man’s touch a laughable idea.

Sometimes, she wondered what would have happened if she could have seen the future, if she had just clung to Maan that night and refused to let him go. Or if she had just refused Dev that night, citing tiredness or shyness- she didn’t think her would have forced her. If she had not become pregnant, how different things would have been.

In some ways, she had to thank Dev for his lust. If he had not impregnated her, she would by now have been married off to another man of her family’s choice—it was only the maternal instinct that had woken in her breast that had forced her to stand up to them, to run from them. It was her need to protect her child that had brought her to Delhi, and the need to provide for her child that had in turn forced her into proximity with Maan.

As always, all roads led to Maan— these days rarely a few moments passed when Maan’s image didn’t enter her mind.

She thought back to the turbulent history of their relationship. From the first, there had been a connection between them—it caused her no end of rueful amusement when she looked back and realised how attracted Maan had always been, how he had been fighting himself. Little things had given him away, if only she had been in a state to recognise how in thrall to her she was.

(If there had been anyone in the room at that moment, they would have seen the look of adoration on Geet’s face—mute testament that Maan’s devotion to Geet was fully reciprocated.)

She’d always felt something when Maan touched her—from their first dance to the time she clung to him in the rain, to her inability to stay away from him even when she should have walked away.

Her thoughts turned to the first time she had understood her feelings for Maan—the first time understood why she had felt her heart pound, why her palms turned sweaty when he was near, why she felt a strange yearning deep in her belly every time he touched her. His hands had caressed her ear as he’d replaced her earring and his breath had caressed her face. She’d wanted to turn and lick the sweat from his neck, wanted to bite at the curve of his neck, wanted to smooth her hands over his bare chest. Goodness only knew what would have happened if she had followed the urge—perhaps they would have reached this day earlier!

The thought had shocked her into immobility, thankfully. It had shocked her that any man could awaken such feelings in her, that Maan had somehow not only created a place for himself in her heart, but also awakened her femininity, had made her want.

The realisation that part of her wanted a man’s touch had terrified her. Nightmares had racked her sleep, her dreams filled with a man’s hands pawing at her, a man’s body violating hers. The ogre of her dreams had not had a face, and she’d tried her best to forget him. But she had added the weight of her terror to the decision she had taken to stay away from Maan.

She’s tried to stay away from him, but Maan had come after her with all the intensity of unspoken desire. She’d resisted, forcing herself to try and find a suitable bride for the man she was coming to love in an attempt to protect herself.

Somehow he’d managed to get close to her again the day he’d removed her jewellery. With the feel of his body so close to hers tempting her, his actions mimicking those of a groom on his wedding night, she had almost broken under the force of her desire. Strangely, she hadn’t thought once of Dev that day, Maan’s every action wiping Dev’s similar actions from her mind. She couldn’t even remember whether Dev had removed her jewellery—as she thought forward to the night to come, all she could remember was how she had felt as Maan looked at her in the mirror that day, as his fingers slipped her kade from her wrists.

As she had begun to respond, a memory of the ogre from her nightmares had appeared in her mind. It had reinforced her need to walk away from him, to try and find a way to distract him from thinking about her. She’d managed it, but was left with a civil war going on inside her- her terror at the thought of a man touching her warring with her need to have Maan touch her.

After that she became used to the constant low hum of need she always felt when she was near him, became used to controlling her almost constant need to touch him. He teased her about her tendency to twist her dupatta, to play with her hair—what he probably didn’t realise was that she was occupying her hands to stop them from doing what they ached to do- namely touch his skin, draw him close, smooth along the sharp angles of his jaw, learn the way his stubble would prickle against her fingertips, learn the way his lips would feel if she outlined them with her touch.

(In those early days every time he came close to her, she was overcome by an urge to cling to him, whilst at the same time fighting the need to run away and hide. He must have thought she had some kind of breathing problem, she had hyperventilated so often when he was close.)

She’d only given in once- only allowed herself to draw him close once, allowed herself to revel in the feel of his arms around her, allowed herself to feel his hard body close to hers. She’d been overcome with guilt almost immediately, horrified at the feelings coursing through her, at what impression she must be giving him. She’d pushed him away, blaming him, letting him think that she was repulsed by his constant attempts to be close to her. How could she have told him how much she had wanted him at that moment, when she herself was not sure that she would be able to go through with the reality of accepting Maan’s touch.

“Why doesn’t he just PAY them for god’s sake, why were Adi and Romeo spending such a long time bargaining with the girls. Why didn’t he just glare at Anvesha and Pinky, they’d move if he glared. And now Dadi was adding her voice to the chorus- ufffff, it was taking too long”

Geet thought back to that night, and to the turbulent events of the days and weeks following. The first few days had been a rollercoaster—from the trip to HP to the revelation of her pregnancy, to the trip to Manali.

Geet’s thoughts stuttered to a halt as she remembered that night in Manali. That night.

Even now, she blushed to remember her actions, blushed to remember how she had virtually offered herself to him on a plate. She also remembered how terrified she had been, how grateful she had been when he had held back, how upset she had been that even the love in her heart had been unable to conquer her irrational terror of physical intimacy.

The trip back from Manali had been a silent one- Maan had been lost in his own thoughts, whilst Geet had struggled with the knowledge that she had hurt him once more, that her own irrational fears were destroying her chance at happiness.

And then, Maan had proved once again why he was the one for her. The evening they spent together at the suburban version of the camp-site where they first met had been a night in which they shared so much, where for once they talked about their relationship rather than simply fighting.

They had pledged their love, though neither had said the words. They’d discussed the future, they’d dealt with the reality of how hard their situation was likely to be.

And she had opened up to him about her fears, about how she was worried that she would disappoint him, how she was terrified of his touch even as she craved it. He’d held her in an almost avuncular embrace as she had spilled tears of anger, of frustration, of her fear that she would not be able to be a true wife to him.

She’d felt the tremors run through him as his anger at the man who had betrayed her grew- and yet, his touch had been as gentle as ever. His voice had been reassuring and loving when he spoke “Geet, pehli baat; agar zaroorat hui to main tumhara zindagi bhar intezaar karsakta hoon. Agar tum meri nahin huin, to mujhe aur koi bhi to nahin chahiye. Tumhare paas main rahoon, tum meri zindagi mein raho—mere liye sab se zaroori yahi hai”

“Maan” she attempted to interject.

“Geet” he stopped her with a gentle hand over her lips “Chup, bilkul chup”

“Geet, tumhein kya yeh khayal tha ke mujhe tumhare iss ehsaas ka andaaza nahin tha. Mujhe usski wajha to nahin pata thi, magar mujhe bahut dinon se yeh andaaza tha ke tumhein kisi baat se darr lagraha tha, ke tumhein koi baat chub rahi thi. Manali mein main ne apne aap ko isshi liye roka. “

He had moved his fingers to tilt her face up to his. “Geet, main sirf tumhara hoon, hamesha ke liye. Tum sirf meri ho, hamesha se. Aaj ke baad hamare beech kisi aur ki parchaaii bhi nahin aayegi. Aaj ke baad, main tumhare jism ko woh baat sikhaane ki koshish karoonga jo tumhara dil aur dimaagh samajh chuke hain.”

Maan had drawn her close, wrapping his arms around her as if to shield her from the world, and she had drawn comfort from his vow, hoping against hope that she would be able to become his in every way.

Thinking back, she remembered how Maan had managed to teach her to trust him and to trust herself to him.

“and now when I trust him, his family won’t let him into the room- BABAJI, jaldi bhejdo unhein”

Her lessons had started almost immediately. The day after her revelation, he had been trapped in her room as she had entered the milk bath. Her heart had been pounding as she disrobed, aware of the heat of his gaze caressing her back. As she sat in the tub, the petals tickling her soft skin, her heat had been pounding as he drew near. She had managed to hide her fear under her usual mask of bravado, but he’d known what to look for now.

As he told her they had to be somewhere, and drawn her out of the bath, he’d whispered in her ear “Lesson one Geet—aaj sirf ek choti si baat. Aaj bas itna seekhlo. Main tumhare qareeb aata hoon to tumhein kya hota hai, aur mujhe kya hota hai”

He slid his hands up her arms, resting his hands lightly on her bare shoulders. “Geet, dekho tumhein kya horaha hai. Tumhein darr to nahin lagraha hai na, main jab tumhare qareeb hoon?”

Unable to speak, the ever present desire for once dampening down the panic at the thought of where this was heading, she nodded.

He drew her close, keeping his touch gentle, keeping his arms loose around her “Hum aise pehle bhi saath rahe hain Geet, main tumhare qareeb pehle bhi aaya hoon na. Bas, thodi der mere baahon mein raho, aur dekho- tumhein sirf meri chahat ka ehsaas hoga. Dheere dheere, tumhein apne aur mere oopar vishwaas hone lage ga.”

His voice hypnotised her, and she relaxed into the warmth of his embrace. As he felt her relax, he spoke again “bas Geet, aaj mein sirf tumhein yeh batana chahta hoon ke mujhse darne ki kabhi zaroorat nahin hai. Main kabhi tumhein tumhari ijaazat ke baghair nahin choo-oonga, aaj ka sabaq yahi hai”

Geet smiled as she remembered that moment, but the smile slipped off her face as she remembered the events following that night. After that moment, after the joy of Maan’s acceptance of the baby, after the pleasure of teasing him at the wedding- the two of them playing hide and seek like children- the world had turned into a nightmare again. The issue of physical intimacy between Geet and Maan was buried under a rockslide of despair, anger, worry, hurt and then finally anger.

The fortnight between Geet’s two hospital appointments was such a rollercoaster of emotions and incidents that no further thought was given by either Maan or Geet to the schooling Maan had promised. Her mistake had almost cost her all the happiness she had now.

Disaster had struck at the moment when they should have started the journey towards married bliss; instead of congratulations, her ears were filled with condemnation, whilst Maan battled death to make his way back to Geet’s loving embrace.

They had been parted by misunderstanding, Geet’s natural distrust flaring to life and filling her minds with rash words and rash actions. Maan reacted with hurt fury, Geet’s misguided accusations pouring like harsh acid onto the newly revealed surfaces of his wounded heart. Events had come to a head on the night of the country-house party.

Geet’s thoughts turned to the discussions they had had following that night. They had realised that everything needed to be out in the open, all the raw emotions of that fortnight discussed and examined, to make sure that nothing similar ever happened again. Maan had revealed that he had been driven to the edge by his need to make Geet admit her mistake, by his need for her, by his hurt and loneliness. The feel of Geet in his arms as he had rescued her from the swimming pool had reminded him of what he had lost; he’d tried to provoke a response by dancing with Arhana, but that had done nothing more than make him feel unclean, make him feel as if he was the one at fault, making him feel as if was betraying his love.

He’d told her that he tried to provoke a similar response by pulling her close, by forcing her reactions to the surface. In his hurt anger, he’d forgotten her terrors, forgotten her fears- when she’d finally been driven to slap him, fearing for a moment that his behaviour would deteriorate so far that her nightmare-ogre would take on his face, it was as if she woke him from a his own nightmare. His shock had overwhelmed him, almost so much that he had been unable to face her the next day.

When Geet remembered how she had confronted him the next day, how she had provoked him, she felt relieved. It was at that moment that she had realised two things- she could live without him if she had to, but she would also never fear him again. He would never become the ogre of her dreams. He would destroy himself before he harmed her—his actions of the night before showed she would always be able to stop him if he went too far, and also showed that every hurt she experienced, he felt too.

She remembering going back to work for him; so many things left unspoken, so much love still present between them. She remembered waking from her faint, and being held close to him- she’d felt the tremors of terror running through his body, his fear at the thought of losing her plain to see.

At that moment, there had been nothing between them but love. Maan had been broken- she needed to put him back together. She was already shattered; Maan needed patience to rejoin all the pieces.

He’d bent forward as if to lift her, and in an instinctive reaction, she’d pulled back. For some reason, he’d used exactly the same words as he had the night of her first lesson “Ab main tumhari har baat maanoonga”. She’d been transported back to that moment, to the feel of his arms around her wet body. Something had broken loose open in the shield she’d built around her heart, letting her love shine through, letting him back in.

From that moment, though they hadn’t come to any understanding, something between them began to change, to repair itself. And once Geet understood how big a mistake she had made, how she had over-reacted, she had begun to take steps to repair the relationship between them. Maan’s sense of guilt at having manhandled her had not stood a chance against his need to have her in his life again, against his need for her.

Within a few days, thankfully the misunderstanding had been cleared and reparations made. Though no verbal statement was made between them, there was an unspoken understanding that they were on the road to an early marriage, though there seemed to be a mutual need for a few days of light romance before they considered the next step.

The heat between them, so long dampened down by the storm of anger and hurt roiling between them, flared to life again almost immediately- inevitable in a way, such was the passion which always leapt to life when they were together. With no anger, hurt or pain to mask it, the lust that was such a part of their love soon reared its head.

Though Geet was no longer afraid, though she no longer saw the ogre in her nightmares, Maan treated her like spun glass; he couldn’t forget what had gone between them, couldn’t bear the idea that he might make her withdraw from him again. He’d learnt that his life was meaningless without her.

And so, he’d gone back to his lessons, gone back to his plan of gently accustoming her to his touch, of making her accept him without a moment of fear.

From the time he’d shown her that he’d never taken off her taaveez, invading her personal space as he undid his buttons, to the way he’d caressed her hand as he helped her lift the boxes to the way he’d held her close as they had danced- all his actions were designed to reinforce his first lesson.

And then the moment came when he’d filled her maang with his blood- forever marking her as his, using the stuff of life to make the world aware that she was his life.

That night, he’d held her as she slept, watching her sleep and matching his breaths to hers. He hadn’t been unaware of the fear in her eyes when he had helped her to bed, a momentary terror waking again in her heart. He’d reassured her silently, unable to hide the need in his eyes as he’d removed her dupatta, but still subtly making her aware that he was in control of his needs. He’d rocked her to sleep, holding her close and when she woke, blushing to find herself entwined around him like a vine, he’d whispered into her ear “doosra sabaq bhi seekhliya tumhnein Geet, bina mere kuch kahe hue. Dekho kaise tum poori raat meri baahon mein chayn se so rahi theen. Dheere dheere tumhare jism ko meri aadat horahi hai”

For one moment, they’d lain there, the knowledge of what was building between them filling the air with tension. For one brief second, she’d become aware of his need- but he’d swiftly drawn away before she could do more than register what she’d felt.

He stood from the bed, his back to her, a subtle tension obvious in the set of his shoulders.

“God, ab mujhe pata hai woh har waqt itne ghusse mein kyun rehte hain. Itna intezaar karna kisi ke mood ke liye bhi accha nahin hai”

She kept thinking back to the past, trying to distract herself from her current situation.

“Geet, main abhi aaya, tum bhi tayyar ho jao, phir Dadi se jaake milna hai” He’d walked away, and she had lain there, aware of the need which had sprung to life deep inside her in response to the evidence of his desire. She’d felt a sense of relief at the realisation that her need for him was no longer tinged with fear, that when the time came she would be able to fully accept him as her husband, as the other half of her.

“Aur kitna intezaar karwayenge Babaji, ab hum donon ne bahut intezaar karliya”

From that day on, there had been a subtle teasing between them, a build up of the passion. An unspoken decision had been made between them to not go too far; they’d never had a chance to have a normal courtship, so many problems had beset them from the time they met. It was as if they both wanted to take the time to flirt and tease and torment, safe in the knowledge that they were married (even if not quite officially yet) and so could give in to temptation at any time. But neither of them seemed to want to forego a formal wedding night; their relationship had hardly progressed along conventional paths but both wanted a brand new start; they wanted a wedding filled with all the traditions and that involved a traditional wedding night.

(If Maan wanted to wipe all memories of Geet’s first marriage from her mind, he never said it out loud. If Geet wanted Maan to have the experience of making love to his wife for the first time on their wedding night, she never mentioned it to him).

He’d caressed her and held her ever closer, tempted and tormented her. She’d revelled in the knowledge that she wanted him, enjoying being wooed, enjoying the way he became ever bolder but never quite crossed the bounds of propriety.

As the wedding drew closer, the tension grew. And then came the trip to the Designer studio; the fire between them had almost burnt out of control.

“Babaji, agar woh jaldi ander nahin aaye, to main to aise hi jal jal ke marjaaoongi”

They sat in the car silently on the way home that day, not even daring to look at each other for fear the need would overcome them. Finally he’d said in a low determined voice “Geet, sabaq tum nein acchi tarha se seekh liye na, ab to mujhse darr nahin lagta”

She’d shaken her head, a blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Theek hai Geet. Accha hi hai. Aaj ke baad se apna khayal rakhna, neend poori poori lelena. Kyunki bahut jald woh din aayega jab tum meri hogi. Aur uss din main tumse har sabaq ke baare mein poochoonga, aur mumkin hai tum jawab dete dete bilkul na so pao”

And now that day had come.

“Aur pata nahin kitna intezaar karna........................”

As that thought crossed her mind, the door suddenly opened and a chorus of voices suddenly crashed onto her ears.

“Mubarak ho, mubarak ho, Shaadi mubarak ho”

Maan turned and closed the door behind him, returning the room to silence. He turned back to face her, and their eyes met as he began to stalk slowly towards her.

“thank you Babaji”

-FIN-


End file.
